Dear Cold/Flu/Black Plague,
What have I ever done to you? Why do you sabotage my plans for self improvement with your headaches and congestion and sore throat? I've been pretty good about staying on track with eating better and going to the gym. I've even made more than a halfhearted attempt at folding laundry. Despite my good intentions, I'm now sidetracked by this disgusting bug. Whats the big idea?
Sincerely,
Miserable Me
I think there's some kind of stereotype that women are better at being sick because they are more concerned with everyone else's well-being than their own. Men are the ones who apparently will slap a band-aid on a severed limb but will be reduced to a whimpering pitiful mess at the first sign of a cold. Yet here I am, a girl with an overactive nurturing gland and more maternal instincts than you can shake a rattle at, ignoring everything and everyone around me in lieu of crawling under the covers and waiting for death to come. Let me be revolutionary enough to break through these stereotypes by curling up in the fetal position and feeling sorry for myself while overdosing on cough drops. I'm here for equality people.
So here I sit, feeling like there is an enlarged slug lodged in the back of my throat, burning a raw, slimy path its way down my esophagus. My cough is that delightful mixture of phlegm and more phlegm, and when I can speak in anything above a hoarse whisper, I sound like a gruff mobster with a 3 pack a day smoking habit. It's damn sexy, and accompanied with sweat pants two sizes too big, greasy hair, and used tissues piling up on either side, I am every man's wet dream. Take it all in boys, it doesn't get any better than this.
Even my dog has run from me.
Last night, as I was convincing myself that death was near, I had the morbid and inappropriate (not to mention overly dramatic) thought that if I perished from this, I would be burdening my loved ones with the deed of being pallbearers for someone who is not exactly in the best possible shape. While I do not for a moment lack faith in their upper body strength or ability to walk in unison, I don't want my legacy to be 6 identical hernias. The beads of sweat from exertion should not replace the tears of anguished mourning that I would expect should anything happen to me. I don't want anyone to pity my pallbearers so from now until it is my time to go, I need to get my body in tip top casket shape. Somewhere along the way, I would also like to reap the benefits of positive body image and good health, but right now, I can't imagine getting out of this cycle of sweats and self pity.)
I am so determined to get back on track, and cannot wait to feel
relatively human again. It's only been 24 hours, but I have watched more
TV and scrolled through enough YouTube videos to last me a
month.
(Side note: I am all caught up on Boy Meets World reruns and regret
nothing). My goal is to self medicate this bug out of my system in the
next few days so I can get back (and/or start) my routine. Since I've been sipping out of my Robitussin bottle like a cocktail, I'm well on my to either a cough syrup addiction or a full recovery.
So wish me luck that this thing passes quickly, or at least takes me painlessly. Is it too late for a flu shot?
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Monday, January 21, 2013
Premature Praise For A Solid Start
As is customary, all diets and workout regiments start on a Monday. Any other day of the week makes absolutely no sense and is primed for failure. So today, I woke up gung ho on the idea of starting on my path to physical excellence.
Ok. I lied. I woke up, snuggled up with my puppy, stole more than my fair share of the covers, and hit the snooze button four times. By the time I dragged myself out of bed, I was dangerously close to being late for work. Usually, I count my morning a success if I remember to accessorize my outfit with pants. Today, already late and feeling overly ambitious, I grabbed my gym clothes and in the spirit of fitness, sprinted out the door, hurdling over the laundry basket, and running through the obstacle course of dog toys that litter my living room. I exercised my impressive cursing vocabulary on the drive, but I don't think cursing under my breath burns many calories.
One looong shift and 40 minutes in rush hour traffic later, I made it to the gym! Maybe the trick is to go straight from work and skip the potential of getting sucked into How I Met Your Mother reruns on my comfortable, beckoning couch. It felt good to walk in there a few weeks into January like "Look everyone. I am not a New Years resolution groupie. It is almost February and here I am!" Never mind that I started my resolution three weeks late and have yet to establish any pattern of going, but nobody has to know that. Fortunately, I belong to a gym where nobody is keeping track of my comings and goings, and I don't have to hide my shame of having at least 4 months of "excused absences" under my sizable belt.
I put in an hour of solid "warm ups" today.I tried running for a minute at a time, and felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest. I am determined to work up to that, but for now, I would very much like to not become a YouTube sensation by flying off the treadmill into a pile of lumpy limbs. Tomorrow, I will pack another pair of sweats and hope that I am motivated to keep on driving past my house and get off at the next exit to my gym. I need more days of packed pants and missing my exit. One day down, 60 pounds to go.
Ok. I lied. I woke up, snuggled up with my puppy, stole more than my fair share of the covers, and hit the snooze button four times. By the time I dragged myself out of bed, I was dangerously close to being late for work. Usually, I count my morning a success if I remember to accessorize my outfit with pants. Today, already late and feeling overly ambitious, I grabbed my gym clothes and in the spirit of fitness, sprinted out the door, hurdling over the laundry basket, and running through the obstacle course of dog toys that litter my living room. I exercised my impressive cursing vocabulary on the drive, but I don't think cursing under my breath burns many calories.
One looong shift and 40 minutes in rush hour traffic later, I made it to the gym! Maybe the trick is to go straight from work and skip the potential of getting sucked into How I Met Your Mother reruns on my comfortable, beckoning couch. It felt good to walk in there a few weeks into January like "Look everyone. I am not a New Years resolution groupie. It is almost February and here I am!" Never mind that I started my resolution three weeks late and have yet to establish any pattern of going, but nobody has to know that. Fortunately, I belong to a gym where nobody is keeping track of my comings and goings, and I don't have to hide my shame of having at least 4 months of "excused absences" under my sizable belt.
I put in an hour of solid "warm ups" today.I tried running for a minute at a time, and felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest. I am determined to work up to that, but for now, I would very much like to not become a YouTube sensation by flying off the treadmill into a pile of lumpy limbs. Tomorrow, I will pack another pair of sweats and hope that I am motivated to keep on driving past my house and get off at the next exit to my gym. I need more days of packed pants and missing my exit. One day down, 60 pounds to go.
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Eureka! I'm having an Aha! moment!
Life is full of aha! moments. I'm sure I've had a few of my own, and for a split second, they have the necessary affect and make me stop and reevaluate things. However, despite the wrecking ball sized "signs" that are plopped in my path, I tend to sidestep the right course of action needed to improve my life. A moment of clarity is only good if you do something with it, and more often than not, I took the easier road and kept walking past opportunities. Aha! moments come with a price; they scream "Change! Do something different! Be better!"
Imagine walking past someone in need on the street. You do your best to avoid eye contact, because as soon as that connection is made, you are obligated to acknowledge their presence. If you do catch their eye, you know that you have the potential to help. So the molding on the building that you're passing becomes the most interesting thing you've ever seen, and your silent phone is now requiring your immediate attention, and you keep walking. Here is your aha! moment, desperately hoping that you meet their gaze, that you stop and recognize that there is a problem, and choose to do something about it. I am guilty of averting my gaze more often than not. My aha! moments rest behind me, where I've kept on walking and hoped that my pretense of being too busy to stop was convincing enough to warrant not being a better person.
I want to recognize my next aha! and keep it from fading into the black.
Today, I was sitting on the couch watching an old movie and knowing that the next scene would make me cry, my boyfriend recorded my reaction to Robin Williams coming back from Neverland for the last time. It should have been funny. I was wrapped up in the story, and sure enough, started tearing up for the 8th or 9th time while spouting random factoids I had scalped from IMDB and old issues of People about the various actors. When he showed me the video, I felt the color drain from my face. I saw myself with hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, not a stitch of makeup, wearing ratty sweats. There was no hiding that double chin and pallid skin. The side table behind me in the video was littered with junk mail and fruit snack wrappers. I'm not sure when I got too comfortable in my life to care, but I didn't like it. A 15 second clip showed me how everyone else must see me. This was no perfectly posed picture where I could angle my face just so to catch the light (I watched one to many episodes of America's Next Top Model and can now SMIZE like a champ). This was me in all my fat, messy glory. I can't photoshop my life, but eureka! I can change the things that I cannot accept.
I need to start small or my motivation will fizzle out. I know this is not the epiphany of the century and for the most part, it's me being superficial and vain, but I need to start somewhere. So today, I commit to a change. It's small and in the grand scheme of things, a drop in the bucket of everything that I hope to one day do, but it's something. Today, I will walk past the pantry with junk food. Tomorrow, I will go to the gym. Today, I will clean my area and resolve to care more about my surroundings. Right now, I will hug my dog and kiss my boyfriend and silently promise to be better. This is a good first step. This aha! moment will be taken advantage of. Wish me luck.
Imagine walking past someone in need on the street. You do your best to avoid eye contact, because as soon as that connection is made, you are obligated to acknowledge their presence. If you do catch their eye, you know that you have the potential to help. So the molding on the building that you're passing becomes the most interesting thing you've ever seen, and your silent phone is now requiring your immediate attention, and you keep walking. Here is your aha! moment, desperately hoping that you meet their gaze, that you stop and recognize that there is a problem, and choose to do something about it. I am guilty of averting my gaze more often than not. My aha! moments rest behind me, where I've kept on walking and hoped that my pretense of being too busy to stop was convincing enough to warrant not being a better person.
I want to recognize my next aha! and keep it from fading into the black.
Today, I was sitting on the couch watching an old movie and knowing that the next scene would make me cry, my boyfriend recorded my reaction to Robin Williams coming back from Neverland for the last time. It should have been funny. I was wrapped up in the story, and sure enough, started tearing up for the 8th or 9th time while spouting random factoids I had scalped from IMDB and old issues of People about the various actors. When he showed me the video, I felt the color drain from my face. I saw myself with hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, not a stitch of makeup, wearing ratty sweats. There was no hiding that double chin and pallid skin. The side table behind me in the video was littered with junk mail and fruit snack wrappers. I'm not sure when I got too comfortable in my life to care, but I didn't like it. A 15 second clip showed me how everyone else must see me. This was no perfectly posed picture where I could angle my face just so to catch the light (I watched one to many episodes of America's Next Top Model and can now SMIZE like a champ). This was me in all my fat, messy glory. I can't photoshop my life, but eureka! I can change the things that I cannot accept.
I need to start small or my motivation will fizzle out. I know this is not the epiphany of the century and for the most part, it's me being superficial and vain, but I need to start somewhere. So today, I commit to a change. It's small and in the grand scheme of things, a drop in the bucket of everything that I hope to one day do, but it's something. Today, I will walk past the pantry with junk food. Tomorrow, I will go to the gym. Today, I will clean my area and resolve to care more about my surroundings. Right now, I will hug my dog and kiss my boyfriend and silently promise to be better. This is a good first step. This aha! moment will be taken advantage of. Wish me luck.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Well, here we are.... Hi
I once was asked (not more than a few minutes ago actually) why I wanted to write a blog. I don't have a hobby that I want to share with the world, no strong political soapboxes I want to stand on, or motivational, life affirming stories to inspire the masses. I'm not sure what my "angle" yet is, but hopefully I'll know it when I see it. Maybe a diary would be better suited for what I want out of this, but my closet narcissism yearns for attention and validation.
So...without further ado...
Who am I kidding? I love "ado". The setup is my specialty. I hype up my stories and jokes only to walk all over the punchline. "I have a great idea"... proceeds most suggestions for plans, dinner choices, disaster schemes, and shortcut attempts. I put more words into sentences than are reasonably necessary to get my point across. I don't always know where I'm going when I start a story, but eventually I will get there, even if it kills me and everyone else along the way. So this is my story... I don't know where it will lead or if I'm just going to go in circles from now to infinity and beyond. Either way, I need a place to start, and this is as good as any.
Starting a blog so close to the beginning of the year is ripe for potential to declare some new years resolutions. I make them every year and for the first week or so, am pretty dedicated to the idea of doing at least some of them. I mean, I really, really want to start trying to figure out where to begin. Maybe I lack focus, maybe motivation, maybe something shiny catches my eye....maybe I just lack accountability.
Technically, I'm an adult. It says so on my driver's license. Legally, I can vote, buy booze, order stuff off infomercials without parental consent, and call those awkward hotlines that allow me to meet sexy singles in my area, should I so wish. What it does take away from me is accountability. Sure, I go to work, and pay my bills reasonably close to "on time", but beyond that? I don't hold myself to any of the promises I make myself.
Nights are my most ambitious times. Right before falling asleep, I work myself up into a motivational frenzy of "I will do the _______________, and after that, will start________, finish up _______, clean ___________, and tackle ______________" What starts out as a full fledged call to arms to wake up early, go for a run (ok ok, walk), pack a healthy lunch, stay focused at work, go to the gym, finish up (i.e. start) housework, and go to bed early somehow transforms during the night into this pathetic level of excuses and self validation:
*Wake up at a responsible time.... hit snooze button an irresponsible number of times.
*Run through my morning routine because I'm running super late. (Running was used twice, so it almost counts as exercise.)
*Forget lunch but snag a packet of fruit snacks on the way out the door (Wrapper says it has some degree of actual fruit concentrate in it, so I may as well have packed an orchard for lunch.)
*Make it to work in one piece and put in the requisite hours (Success!)
*Come home, kick my feet up and discover that (insert any body part) hurts all of a sudden and there's no way I want to aggravate it by going to the gym.
*Instead of housework, let dishes "soak" for another 24 hours
*Stay up watching TV until well into the night and then spend a significant amount of time berating myself for not accomplishing anything and promising myself to do better tomorrow.
*Repeat.
I'm tired of this endless loop where my best intentions fall by the way side. I do my best to make people happy and to really deliver as a friend, daughter, girlfriend, employee, coworker, etc. I go out of my way to not let anyone down, except myself. The idea of going up to someone I care about and tell them that I have not followed through or failed at something that I told them I would do is miserable. The idea of failing myself is perfectly. Even I see the flaws in my logic. So here is my promise to myself and to anyone who may stumble across this post: I will try to improve. I don't want to set myself up and narrow it down to just one aspect of my life. Improve overall. My relationships, my weight, my accountability, my finances, my job, my self respect. Everything and anything. I'm not so bad right now, but hopefully soon, I will be better.
So...without further ado...
Who am I kidding? I love "ado". The setup is my specialty. I hype up my stories and jokes only to walk all over the punchline. "I have a great idea"... proceeds most suggestions for plans, dinner choices, disaster schemes, and shortcut attempts. I put more words into sentences than are reasonably necessary to get my point across. I don't always know where I'm going when I start a story, but eventually I will get there, even if it kills me and everyone else along the way. So this is my story... I don't know where it will lead or if I'm just going to go in circles from now to infinity and beyond. Either way, I need a place to start, and this is as good as any.
Starting a blog so close to the beginning of the year is ripe for potential to declare some new years resolutions. I make them every year and for the first week or so, am pretty dedicated to the idea of doing at least some of them. I mean, I really, really want to start trying to figure out where to begin. Maybe I lack focus, maybe motivation, maybe something shiny catches my eye....maybe I just lack accountability.
Technically, I'm an adult. It says so on my driver's license. Legally, I can vote, buy booze, order stuff off infomercials without parental consent, and call those awkward hotlines that allow me to meet sexy singles in my area, should I so wish. What it does take away from me is accountability. Sure, I go to work, and pay my bills reasonably close to "on time", but beyond that? I don't hold myself to any of the promises I make myself.
Nights are my most ambitious times. Right before falling asleep, I work myself up into a motivational frenzy of "I will do the _______________, and after that, will start________, finish up _______, clean ___________, and tackle ______________" What starts out as a full fledged call to arms to wake up early, go for a run (ok ok, walk), pack a healthy lunch, stay focused at work, go to the gym, finish up (i.e. start) housework, and go to bed early somehow transforms during the night into this pathetic level of excuses and self validation:
*Wake up at a responsible time.... hit snooze button an irresponsible number of times.
*Run through my morning routine because I'm running super late. (Running was used twice, so it almost counts as exercise.)
*Forget lunch but snag a packet of fruit snacks on the way out the door (Wrapper says it has some degree of actual fruit concentrate in it, so I may as well have packed an orchard for lunch.)
*Make it to work in one piece and put in the requisite hours (Success!)
*Come home, kick my feet up and discover that (insert any body part) hurts all of a sudden and there's no way I want to aggravate it by going to the gym.
*Instead of housework, let dishes "soak" for another 24 hours
*Stay up watching TV until well into the night and then spend a significant amount of time berating myself for not accomplishing anything and promising myself to do better tomorrow.
*Repeat.
I'm tired of this endless loop where my best intentions fall by the way side. I do my best to make people happy and to really deliver as a friend, daughter, girlfriend, employee, coworker, etc. I go out of my way to not let anyone down, except myself. The idea of going up to someone I care about and tell them that I have not followed through or failed at something that I told them I would do is miserable. The idea of failing myself is perfectly. Even I see the flaws in my logic. So here is my promise to myself and to anyone who may stumble across this post: I will try to improve. I don't want to set myself up and narrow it down to just one aspect of my life. Improve overall. My relationships, my weight, my accountability, my finances, my job, my self respect. Everything and anything. I'm not so bad right now, but hopefully soon, I will be better.
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